


Wasteland Trees

by cilceon



Series: Lying Eyes and Honest Hands [9]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Time - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cilceon/pseuds/cilceon
Summary: Deacon shoved his hands in his pockets – waiting expectantly. He was well aware he wasn't in any danger physically; he was getting the feeling Codsworth new things and he didn't know what those things entailed. That little fact made him nervous.“Who are you.” Codsworth spoke curtly. If he had arms, they would be on his hips.(A conversation between a certain mister handy & a certain spy about intentions, sandwiched between some much needed world building)
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Lying Eyes and Honest Hands [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992751
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Wasteland Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This version of Sanctuary uses Undernier's mod for the settlement as its bases if you want a better visual of the space! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed the fic, I use 'em as fuel to keep writing! im [deathclawforcutiepatootie](https://deathclawforcutiepatootie.tumblr.com) if you want to see more fallout content/ some landscape art I've done for this series!  
> Please stay safe & wear a mask!  
> xx lyss

_When he shall die,  
Take him and cut him out in little stars,  
And he will make the face of heaven so fine  
That all the world will be in love with night  
And pay no worship to the garish sun.”_

_  
\- William Shakespeare -_

Deacon was sure the walls of Sanctuary could be seen from Concord on a clear day. Though that may be an exaggeration, it wasn't by much. When the bombs had fallen there must have been two planes overhead near the small suburb – or at least nearby. Those flying machines where savaged by some long-ago lot of settlers that happened to cross the town before Preston’s gaggle made their way there. From what he could gather the old settlers had ripped apart the planes with a suit of power armor that Sturges was still diligently trying to repair.

The wings of the planes and metal of collapsed houses had been used to create walls for the city. The scraps becoming the start of homes, shops, Sheffield's new bar and other various buildings. All perched precariously on top of the inner cluster of pre-war homes inside the safety of the wing turned walls.

Sanctuary’s skyline could put the Great Green Jewel itself to shame. The Minutemen had done a lot of good with the community since it was re-founded nearly a year ago. All of that work continued even after Preston left for the Castle, when he left Sturges and an old ghoul that went by Hodgins in charge. Deacon supposed since then that MacCready had been added to the list of figureheads – though he was little more than a glorified watchdog in his eyes.

He made his way over the mostly repaired bridge past a guard tower where a minute men was in watched, a laser musket probably at her side. With a tilt of her hat, she gestured to him as he did the same, fully settling into the Minutemen role he had taken for this special outing.

Passed the first house on the cracked black tar top he had discovered the foundation of a collapsed home had been completely removed. The entire lot now replaced with a flourishing garden. How the settlers had managed to rip the concrete out of the ground he did not know, but Deacon had learned not to underestimate what Sturges could come up with.

Marcy Long was standing in the middle of tato patch, her arm is folded over her chest as she looked disapprovingly towards a young man. Even from that distance he could hear her yelling about him about how once the plant bore fruit, they needed to be propped off the ground, else they'd rot. The boy nodded enthusiastically trying to escape her wrath. Deacon shook head with a small motion – not envying the poor soul.

He glanced to the gates of the inner ring and the two houses directly outside of them. On the right was Sturges and, what was her name from Vault 81 – Tina’s home they had commandeered. The florescent light of the overhanging garage buzzing brightly in the soon to be setting light. The aforementioned suit of power armor was suspended from one wall, surrounded by tools in varying states of rust.

To Deacon’s left however – was what he would call a monument or maybe a shrine. The only house in Sanctuary that had its windows boarded, door firmly locked. The miraculously shriveled green shrubs were neatly trimmed and what patches of grass there was well maintained and confined to the front yard. On the stoop of the door, was an arrangement of flowers in vases. A plate with a single, half melted candle sat in the center.

Deacon tipped his hat to the candle, as every settler of Sanctuary did as they passed it. It was Preston he had started that tradition. As more people saw how that made Wanderer smile, the more people who committed to the action. Even most caravans knew about it at this point.

He walked through the gates passed another Minuteman who did not spare him a second thought. Then he stopped walking.

There wasn't much happening in the town center. The folks looked to be getting ready for something and the shops that surrounded the giant sycamore like a skirt were all closed. He assumed now that they were closed because, perched on top of one of the roofs, was a ladder that Sturges was holding on to with a white-knuckle grip.

At the very top of that ladder was Wanderer in a faded button up or that he's sworn used to be his. She had a long coil of string lights wrapped over her shoulder that pooled down to the surrounding shops. Sturges muttered something about her fixing her footing to which she smiled and insisted she'd be fine.

Moments later, the ladder wiggled and one of her hands quickly gripped onto a branch of the tree before she shot a playful glare down to the burly man below. Deacon he had taken a step forwards as if he were somehow close enough to catch her.

Sturges spoke again this comment earning a giggle from her in response before she continued on her mission of decorating the tree.

Oh, her laugh. Smoother than rainwater. He closed his eyes and leaned against the building behind him, content with listening to the surrounding conversations.

The Peabody’s seemed to be settling in well enough, that Vault-Tec ghoul was apparently named Clyde, Mama Murphy's cold was falling to the wayside. MacCready – to Deacon’s joy, was currently off somewhere in the Capital Wasteland. Which explained why it was so peaceful in the town.

Wanderer laughed again, sounding so carefree in her banter with Sturges. if Deacon didn't know any better – he would think himself jealous. He cracked an eye open looking up at her as the pair moved the ladder to the other side of the tree.

Plenty of the General’s good men were overly fond of her. He had overheard or been in circles of conversation about her more times than he'd ever admit. For every drunken recruit trying to jar up the others around them about her being a _her_ there were five others coming to the defense. Most of these men and women adored Wanderer – respected her even more. The ones that didn't never last long.

Deacon close his eyes again continuing to listen to the sounds around him. After a few moments, the soft ruling and pinging of a Mister Handy hummed in his direction.

“Excuse me sir. There’s a problem that needs your attention ‘round the corner.” Codsworth extended a claw towards the gate of the town.

“Why of course Mr. Codsworth,” Deacon kicked off the wall, “What seems to be the problem, my good man.”

He puttered on ahead, “Please follow me.”

Behind his glasses Deacon knitted his brow, sparing Wanderer – or Charlie rather, a glance before trailing after her robot. Handies were notoriously hard to read. Their inflections annoyingly easy to fake and alter. One just need to pay attention to the conversations of a red clad reporter and the handy of the Upper Stands to see that. Deacon had noted however, that this particular unit was different.

He could tell that he wasn't being led to a Minutemen situation simply from the sputters of Cosworth’s exhaust.

Charlie had mentioned once absentmindedly that her old husband had an affinity for taking machines apart and then putting them back together in a better state than before he got his hands on them. Codsworth was a very unique mister handy – not because he was hers, but because of the hardware that was inside of him. Something about her father gifting things to said husband to tinker with from work. Though Deacon was yet to discern where her father was employed. As he followed Codsworth, he made a mental note to prod her about it later.

Cosworth began to slow as they reached the small creek and bridge that lead up the path to Vault 111 where Charlie didn’t like going. They stopped completely once they reached a fallen tree.

Deacon shoved his hands in his pockets – waiting expectantly. He was well aware he wasn't in any danger physically; he was getting the feeling Codsworth new things and he didn't know what those things entailed. That little fact made him nervous.

“Who are you.” Codsworth spoke curtly. If he had arms, they would be on his hips.

“A Minuteman–”

“False!” The robot spun towards him. All three eyes shooting closer, like fingers digging into his chest. “You are not a Minuteman! You were here months before Mum came back! Do not assume I did not detect your presence. My sensors art the highest grade and the highest caliber RobCo had ever crafted. You will not pull the wool over my eyes sir.” RobCo didn't make Handies...

“I’m a Minuteman right now.” Deacon picked an eye, refusing to look away from it. “Probably be one again next week too.” 

Codsworth scoffed, “Miss Charlotte has been through far too much to be toyed with by a– a vagabond such as yourself! I ask you once more, what is your name you delinquent!”

Oh, he needed to make a choice right now, an important one at that.

“Deacon, the name’s Deacon.”

Codsworth’s lenses narrowed before shooting opening. “You’re Mr. Deacon?” The robot’s voice was low, all previous anger melding away. The skepticism didn’t budge, however. “ _You’re_ Mr. Deacon.” Codsworth, sputtered his exhaust off lowering to the ground slowly, his three arms folding underneath him in the process “Pardon my brashness sir _,_ I simple refuse to believe you are the man she speaks so highly of.”

She speaks highly of him? He took a seat on the log next to Codsworth, resting his forearms on his thighs, hands clasped in front of him. “Don’t know what to tell ya’ buddy.”

There was a soft ticking from inside the bot, metal cooling and shrinking in the long-deserved break from use. “… Did you know Mum was down there?”

Deacon sighed, looking at his hands. “I had an inkling something important was. Didn’t know it was her.” He didn’t know it was something as important as her, that’s for damn sure.

“Does she know this?” His center eye lifted, looking Deacon up and down.

“A wonderful question, Codsy-”

“That’s Codsworth to you.” The Mister Handy huffed, “Mum, the Sirs, and Young Master Shaun are the only ones permitted to be so casual with me.” The eyes nodded shortly, solidifying his point.

“The Sirs?” Deacon fidgeted with his thumbs idly, testing the waters.

“Why yes. Mum’s dear late husband and even later father, Professor Robert Mayflower. Whom the young master owes his middle name too.”

Mayflower… the robot at the USS Constitution had called her that after riling off an assortment of numbers that she seemed to understand the significance of months ago. Deacon had assumed it was her middle name not her maiden.

“Her old man was a RobCo scientist?” Deacon leaned back nonchalantly, “Explains why she’s so smart with terminals.”

“Ha! Sir was not just a scientist. He was a brilliant engineer and sole inventor of the RobCo Stealth Boy Model 3001 Personal Stealth Device!” Codsworth beamed with pride. “He was always so proud of Mum,” The warmth left him, turning somber. “So very proud. And imagine the delight when Master Nathan first expressed his love for the same technology in which The Professor perfected… ah this is not the focus of this conversation.” Codsworth cleared his ‘throat’ becoming serious once more. “Do you intend to hurt Mum.”

A twist of hurt went through Deacon’s spine. He bit his tongue from responding too quickly. “Would never dream of it, Codsworth.”

“Humph, I would hope not. She holds you in a lofty regard Mr. Deacon.” Codsworth straightened himself, “I've always had such admiration for Mum and her family, ever since the day my visual sensors were first switched on.”

Deacon squinted, looking towards the creek, staying quiet to let the bot continue.

“I know mum has mentioned _before_ to you, and the thought of her smiling like she used to… it just warms my nuclear core. So, imagine the distress I felt when the bombs fell Mr. Deacon, after the family went to the vault.” Codsworth sighed, “I searched, but found no evidence of their deaths. I could only hope they all made it in time.”

Deacon didn’t take his eyes from the water. “That had to be tough on you, waiting so long. Not knowing if anyone was going to come back.” He laced his fingers. Deacon remembered seeing Codsworth for the first time guarding the only ‘home’ in Sanctuary with a kept yard, right outside the metal walls of the then abandoned town. He was humming away to a song he had heard Charlie whistle countless times to the point where he could never place as anything but hers.

“The thought that one day, descendants of the Hale family would immerge from the vault and I could meet, them kept me going. But– but when _she_ returned, I was overjoyed! I admit I ran a full diagnostic scan just to make sure I wasn't malfunctioning.” Codsworth glanced over to Deacon, “During this, my sensors picked you up coming down from the hill when she reached me. I hoped it was the proper judgment not to inform her of your presence. So, it seems, I was correct. I will also assume that you overheard the pain in her voice when she gave me the news. The news of Sir and Shaun.”

He nodded, remembering some of the first words he heard from her; _Is this all that’s left?_

“Indeed. In such a bleak world as this, think of all she has witnessed, and all she’s done… Mum wasn’t raised with violence Mr. Deacon. It’s not in her disposition to harm others. It must destroy her inside that she… that she has… _killed_ people. When she returned from the devil Kellogg! I just, she just…”

Deacon swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. It was so easy to forget that woman used to be anything but a frighteningly accurate shot and the most lethal heavy the Railroad might have ever had. Charlie had been a lawyer and mother, someone’s daughter.

Now she was, in essence, co-commanding a militia, trying to save an entire race of people, desperately searching for a way to get into the Institute to find her boy, and helping any other lucky soul that crossed their path.

How many people had he seen her kill?

Six, seven months ago, her hands would still shake with the weight of a weapon she wasn’t meant to hold. Always looking away when she fired. But now? Charlie was the textbook definition of desensitized, her eyes looked empty with each light snuffed out. Seldom did she miss her shots anymore.

She was terrifying. Fatal to anyone foolish enough to shoot at her first.

He needed to talk to her about this. Find a way to weave in hints that it wasn’t okay that she was turning into the rest of them. Wanderer was too important to become what he was.

“Thank you for being by her side with Mr. Valentine during that escapade. In my two hundred years, I've seen this world tear good men and women apart.” Codsworth continued, “But Mum, she has remained the very model of what humanity should aspire to be regardless of her hardships. Her kindness is unrivaled, don’t you agree Mr. Deacon.”

“Yes.” His voice cracked with dryness, “Kind people like her aren’t born that way, huh?” Deacon bit the inside of his cheek, hoping Codsworth would walk – or hover into the verbal snare he laid.

“No, I suppose not… Mum has always wanted to be a source of peace and wellbeing for others. She did not have an ideal upbringing you see. The Professor was rarely home in her youth, far too busy with the company.” Codsworth slumped his eyes, “It’s not my place to go into detail, but I do not think the world ending was the cruelest thing she has been forced to endure.”

Deacon balled his fist. What could possibly be worse than what she had seen? He unclenched his hands, digging one into his shirt pocket for a cigarette. Not often did he smoke outside of HQ – but he’d make an exception. “Spare me a light?”

The Mister Handy didn’t hesitate, “Of course.” Codsworth lifted his appendage with the flamer puffing it to life, lighting the cigarette.

He took a long drag from it, returning his eyes to the river. The sun was beginning to set, the orange of the giant star caught at the ripples in the water. “Why did you bring me out here, Codsworth?”

“In truth, I was aiming to accost you and demand you leave Mum alone. However now knowing that you are the very man she grins while speaking of? Why it changes my entire outlook and therefore intention.”

Deacon flicked the ashes of the cigarette to the side. “And what has that intention changed to?”

Codsworth went quiet, Charlie’s along with a few other’s laughs could be heard in the distance. “Thank you for keeping her safe, Mr. Deacon. Mum is very important to me and I presume to you as well. I make not assumption that I am equipped to protect her. I am far from it. But you have the skills to do so. I’m grateful that you are by her side. That is all.”

“All I do is add commentary.” He held the tabaco to his mouth, inhaling then speaking on the exhale. “She’s the tree and if anything, I’m just one leaf.”

“Why I disagree Mr. Deacon! If Mum is a tree, then I am motivated to believe that you are one of her strongest. The one she grabs before she can fall.”

“Codsy!” Charlie’s voice called out from behind them, “Where’d you run off to buddy?” Judging by the echo, she was near the gate. “We’re almost ready!”

Codsworth’s engine sparked to life, springing him upwards. Deacon glanced up from his spot to the robot, cigarette going back to his mouth. “Oh dear! Mum’s done with the lights already!”

Deacon chuckled at the bot’s flustered state. “Well go on Codsworth, don’t leave her waiting.”

He started to move away but stopped abruptly, turning back to the man and his cigarette. “You shouldn’t either, Mr. Deacon.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond as his companion continued on his way, calling out to Charlie as he did so.

Deacon rolled his shoulders as mirth reached him from the town center. With an exhale he dropped the bud on the ground, snuffing it out with his heel. Knees cracking as he stood.

“Hey you.” Oh god, Marcy. “You’re going to miss the lights.” The woman was on the pavement a good fifty feet away. “You aren’t on patrol? Then get to the tree.”

“Yes’m.” Deacon tilted his hat towards the woman, following behind.

He looked at Charlie’s old home as he passed, tilting the brim of his hat once more.

The whole town was clustered around the giant sycamore tree, Mama Murphy was stirring the contents of a large gumbo pot. Jun emerged from a newly built shack with a tower of assorted bowls in his hands, smiling widely as his wife walked up to him and took the upper half of the bowls, walking to the stew.

There were three children in Sanctuary, the newest addition, Billy Peabody was attempting to explain the rules to some pre-war game but gave up halfway through. The kids opted to just play catch with the half-deflated ball, which he didn’t seem to mind. Billy would end up relinquishing the role of new kid too MacCready’s son, whenever he got back.

His parents were leaning on the railing of their porch made from the smaller part of a plane hull. Matt had his arm over Carol’s shoulder as they overlooked their son playing with his friends. Not many communities welcomed ghouls into them. Deacon was glad that Sanctuary wasn’t on that list. Clyde Fellowmen counted himself amongst them, as did Hodgins and a handful of others.

Deacon didn’t know much about Hodgins, which made him cautious around the ghoul, but he could discern he was once a military man. Charlie had only told him that Hodgins was a good man and an old friend of the family.

“You don’t gotta swat at me now!” Sturges whined. Tina De Luca, who Charlie offered a place in the town to after her junky of a brother was under control, was kneeling over a generator at the base of the tree – Sturges besides her.

“I wouldn’t have to, if you kept these engines in a good working order.” Tina wiggled a wrench at him.

They smiled at each other before both looking away quickly. Sturges rubbed the back of his neck, probably looking for something witty to say to the woman. _Oh, what do we have here?_ Deacon mussed to himself, _Two little love birds?_

“Mum, can I help?” Codsworth voice echoed from the steps leading up to their home that rested on top of the Long’s house. Marcy and Jun lived in one of the more intact prewar homes, but Charlie had claimed the scrap metal conglomerate above it.

Well, she didn’t claim it per say. Sturges, Hodgins, and several others made the decision for her when she was off running around for the Railroad for a month straight. Fixed it up for her as a surprise, she had looked so happy when Codsworth and other residents reviled it to her, A way to say thank you, he supposed. From his place on the ground, he could see some kind of herb growing in her makeshift kitchen window.

“Nah, nah it’s alright buddy.” She was a few steps behind him, caring a crate filled with bottles of nuka-cola. He was wondering why she had been snagging every bottle they came across.

When Charlie reached the last step, Hodgins reached out and took the case from her. “Let me, ma’am.” He didn’t wait for her to respond.

She puffed her cheeks out, “Thanks Mitch.” Charlie dusted her hands off on the skirt of the dress she had changed into. The shade of blue looked beautiful on her. An almost matching bandana attempting to tame her hair, it wasn’t often she let it down from the bun she normally had. The bobby pin pit, as he called it.

Higgins nodded, the pair walking towards Murphy and the stew pot. “That dress looks lovely on you, ma’am.” He added. Deacon cocked his head to the side, watching the interaction. Yes, it did, of course it did. That why Deacon pointed it out as they picked through a Fallon’s months ago.

“Does it?” She knew the answer. “A dear friend of mine picked it out.” She put a hand on Murphy’s shoulder in greeting. The old woman patted it in response.

“May I ask where this friend is now?” Deacon squinted, leaning against the old house he had earlier, noting Codsworth glancing at him from his place besides Sturges.

She waved him off, not catching what Hodgins was actually asking. “Oh, he’s busy. Jay’s a caravan right now. Couldn’t get away long enough to celebrate with us.”

Hurt went through him, she never mentioned this party to him. Granted, they had been apart for a few weeks now. He was doing recon on the Brotherhood and she was taking off time, per Desdemona’s request.

It was more of an order than anything, they were pushing her too far too fast, asking too much of their little wanderer.

Hodgins smiled at her, “That sure is a shame,” he looked at the people around them, if it wasn’t for the glasses, they would’ve made eye contact. “He’s missing a beautiful sight.”

“Charlie!” Sturges and Tina both called out before blushing immediately.

Sturges cleared his throat, “Um… ah we should be ready to turn this puppy on.”

She clapped her hands excitedly. Charlie practically ran toward the tree and the center of the crowed, forgetting Hodgins. Mama Murphy smiled, saying something to the ghoul as she returned her attention to the gumbo.

Charlie talked to Codsworth for a moment, saying something to cause the robot to spin in a circle happily before he called out to the crowd. “Everyone it’s time to start the festivities!”

“Hopefully at least!” They settled and drew closer to her. “It’s because of all of you that we can do this, all I did was hang the lights. I can’t thank y’all enough for all the hard work that been done!” From his place, Deacon had a clear view of her through the cluster – and of Codsworth besides her. The aforementioned robot glanced over to him at her words; Deacon stopped himself from shifting his weight under the stare.

“So, fingers crossed everybody!” She motioned to Sturges who flipped the switch of the generator.

Hundreds of pins of light flickered throughout the tree. Then in one fluid motion – all the points beamed to full life, signaling applause and cheers throughout the gathering.

The children ran past Deacon, stopping right in front of him to gawk at the tree. “Wow,” one of them whispered, “How’d Miss Hale do that?”

“Dunno, but Mama Murphy says Miss Hale can do everythin’ she puts her mind ta, says she’s seened it.” They ran off towards the stew.

Laughter filled the air around him, music from an old radio Sheffield kept in his bar weaved down through the celebration. Everything was illuminated with a soft yellow glow, giving the whole area a dreamlike effect to it.

Charlie laughed and he snapped his head towards her. She had her hand in one of Codsworth’s who was spinning her in a lazy circle, the skirt of her dress flowed around her like water.

When she stopped, she was facing Deacon. Her grin causing her eyes to scrunch up. She was looking at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

Someone called out to her, and seeming to answer her own question, Charlie smiled at him ever tenderly before turning away into the crowd.


End file.
